Things Uknown But Longed For
by MisaoBlossom
Summary: Freshman year certainly had some unforeseen consequences, but with every resolution comes a new can of worms to be opened. The hardest part is remembering what cannot be forgotten, and wondering how to change what cannot be changed.
1. Ch 1 - You Never See It Coming

_Quick Note: Written simply because no else has, and I believe I will do a decent job. Hopefully you enjoy it. This is meant to be completely separate from my other fanfic, Heart of a Dragon, and depending on what happens one of these stories may be discontinued. T__his is written from (the MC) Saphia's point of view. As a result the goings on of other characters won't be given too much attention. If you notice any mistakes or have any ideas, then please let me know. So, here goes..._

* * *

When the really obnoxious chime of our doorbell startles me out of the book I'm reading, I jump up and run to answer the door without thinking. The last person I expect to see when I quietly open it is Petunia Potsdam, Headmistress of Iris Academy and notoriously effervescent busybody. I know I'm supposed to look serious and respectful; the likelihood of having a celebrated expert green mage pop up on your tiny front porch for nothing more than a soda is highly unlikely. But Professor Potsdam's miserable frown is so mismatched with her usual cheerful self that it's funny. I'm not amused for long. She steps inside and removes her big pointed hat.

"My dear little sprout, there is something important that I must tell you. Are your parents at home?"

"Sure, my mother is. Did you want to speak to her as well?"

"To the contrary, chickadee, I would rather we go somewhere she could not overhear."

"Alright then. She's actually asleep upstairs right now, and my dad won't be home for another two hours. The living room should be fine." Professor Potsdam makes a soft strangled noise in the back of her throat like I've said something hurtful. She follows me down the narrow hallway, past the half bath and the dining room to the last room on the right. I make a beeline for the comfy brown recliner in the corner, my dad's favorite chair and the only one he kept from the den at our old house. The professor sits in the center of my mother's beige loveseat. We look at each other for a moment, while silently I wonder at this sudden turn of events …

* * *

Average. I casually decide that after a rare glance in my dusty, cracked bedroom mirror that morning. I am an average height at five feet and eight inches, the shortest in my family. The next shortest is Aunt Sana at five feet and eleven inches. I'm not as curvy as my roommate at school, Ellen, but I don't have the stick-figure build of my other roommate Virginia. Average. My hair hangs straight and to my shoulders, neither too short nor long. Average. The color is blonde, not extremely platinum nor dirty and dark. Average.

But I do have clear cornflower blue eyes, the pride of my mother's family. These eyes fated me for a name that means 'blue'. My great-great-grandmother Mora started the tradition. It continued with my great-grandmother Linnea, and then Grandma Livia and her three children. My mother Taisie wanted something creative and original, so my dad did some research and they settled on Saphia only moments before my birth. I often hear Aunt Azura snidely say that my name is the only thing that can make me stand out in a crowd. Too bad that I can't tell her I'm a witch.

I hold my head up by placing a hand on my cheek and grin. Me, Saphia Nolan, a witch studying magic at Iris Academy! Hiding at the bottom of my backpack is my very own wand, and I own an enchanted yearbook that only opens when I touch it. Those secrets are so exciting I can't wipe the big smile off of my face! When asked at thirteen to choose between the mysterious, exciting world of magic and an oblivious normal life I didn't hesitate. I love every one of my classes, and even the consequences of magic are worth it to me. And there were _some_ _consequences _freshman year. The most conspicuous consequence was my tall, short-tempered blue magic teacher. Professor Hieronymous Grabiner became my husband to save me from one of my mistakes. Now…I look forward to seeing him again.

That's where my thoughts end as I hear a whoosh and turn to watch a small envelope slip through my closed window. Without a single crease it lands in my lap. I know my husband's writing immediately and cheerfully rip the envelope open. His letter is a brief reply to my earlier one asking after what he'd read over the summer. I notice _have a pleasant birthday tomorrow _elegantly scrawled near the end of the letter and chuckle. Professor Potsdam would have known and made lots of noise about Hieronymous remembering his own wife's birthday. The farewell sounds more like his droll self. _Do try and refrain from running back to school come next week. I will not shrink from assigning you demerits yet again._

I glance over his writing a second time before undoing the clasp of a decorated wooden box my dad carved for me years ago. Inside I have pictures of my whole family, what is left of my favorite stuffed animal from childhood, and Hieronymous' other letters. I now know that he prefers the mild weather in autumn, has yet to try a snow cone, barely tolerates the Headmistress' recipe for stewed eggplant, and has severe reservations about watching science fiction movies.

It's not difficult anymore to talk to my husband. If I knocked on his door at school he would open it. Although Hieronymous would open the door for any student, because that's the sort of person that I've discovered he is. I haven't seen any other teachers at school, so I like my chances of having him in class again. My sophomore year starts next week, and I'm too excited to sit still. Ellen says the exact same thing when I cast Farspeak to catch up with her.

_It's really nice being here with Virginia for the whole week. I don't have to bite my tongue before saying something about magic, and I don't have to make up stories. Living with a magical family is great, even though…_She trails off, and I try to keep from sending my sympathy through our link. Ellen may have chosen to leave her family, but she still remembers them. I know her first summer at Iris Academy hit her hard, otherwise the Headmistress wouldn't have suggested she take a trip. I change the subject quickly.

_I'm glad that you're having a good time! Tell me everything-…On second thought, don't tell me what you and Donald have been up to. _That gets the familiar quiet laugh I wanted to hear so badly. I feel her happiness as she talks about her week with the Danson family and her enthusiasm over our sophomore dorm room. We break the connection and I jog downstairs for breakfast with my parents…

* * *

Everything had been normal all summer, so why did the Headmistress decide to pay me a visit? She offers me a small sad smile, and a lead weight settles in my stomach. I keep my voice calm when I speak.

"Can I get you anything?"

"Oh no, seedling, thank you. I am just trying…to find a way to say this." The professor stands up and leaves her hat on the loveseat to walk over towards me. I sit so straight in the chair that my back begins to ache. She kneels down at my side and takes my hand, grave and unsmiling again.

"Saphia, my dear, there's little I can say to make you feel better so I'm going to jump right in. This is going to be a shock and I'm sorry-"

"Please Headmistress!" I can't stand her graveness anymore, and millions of terrible possibilities crowd into my head. If she carries on like this any longer I'll start shaking. Is she going to expel me? Or worse?

"There was an accident late last night at Iris Academy. Unfortunately, Hieronymous was one of the casualties…" It's so hard to wade through the thick layer of confusion keeping me from understanding her.

"What do you mean? Spell it out for me."

"Hieronymous…passed away very early this morning. You are a widow now, my poor seedling." I finally register how red from crying her eyes are as I stare. I must have jumped up and locked my knees, because my world suddenly spins and then nothing is left but an uncomplicated blackness.


	2. Ch 2 - The Torments of Absence

My alarm clock screeches, making me jolt awake and fumble around in the dark. I slam the snooze button hard and turn my head to stare at a small bit of morning light trying to find its way through the thick curtains hanging over my bedroom window. I don't move. Even before I truly feel like my eyes are open and working, I'm thinking of the bombshell dumped on my doorstep less than twenty four hours ago. It's odd to me how certain words take on a new meaning all of a sudden, words like _gone._ _Irreversibly, permanently, forever…_

I flop backwards and hug my pillow. _Widow. _Laying in my bed, silently, thinking of that word gives me a miserable stomach ache, like I were on some roller coaster and hadn't made it past all the big dips yet. But, I can steel feel Professor Potsdam's warm grip on my hand as she pulls me out of unconsciousness. I can hear in my mind the news that she kindly repeats, news that knocked me out in the first place. _Hieronymous is gone, my dear. You are a widow now. _

I grind my teeth and throw myself out of bed, angry all of a sudden. I stalk to the window and yank the curtains back so that the sunlight outside my window can blind me. I see nothing. Birds are chirping somewhere out there, but I don't hear them. Professor Potsdam didn't offer much information on my husband's death before she left, only a hug and a gloomy smile. How could he be gone?! Hieronymous was the nasty, strict professor with a chip on his shoulder and a frown on his face. I knew the other side of him too; he was kind and genuinely concerned about his students and their educations. More importantly, he was too careful to lose his life in an _accident_. Or was it an accident? Could he have been killed, or…

My thoughts aren't helping my upset stomach, and now I feel the pinch of a headache working its way up the bridge of my nose. I turn away from the window and slowly pick up my wooden box, where I dig through every one of his folded letters. I undo the simple clasp and retrieve the one I read yesterday morning. The parchment feels almost as cold as an ice cube as I trace the smooth writing. I am going to miss his droll comments. My feet go numb and I'm close to passing out again as the thought runs through my head over and over: I'm reading a letter composed and mailed by a dead man. Suddenly I'm angry again.

"He's not dead, that's just not possible." It takes me a moment before I realize that those words are my own, spoken out loud in my quiet room. It set the box aside and stalk back to my bed. He _couldn't_ have died because of a mere mishap. I knew him. _Or did I? _

The covers I burrow under are still warm, and I return my head to my pillow facing away from the sun coming through my window. I reach up to move a bit of hair out of my face and realize that a couple of tears are running down my cheek. I rub them away with my fist and try not to sniffle as I curl up into a ball. Had I ever really learned anything about my husband? Sure we had gotten married, but we had just started to become friends. So why now, of all times, am I crying for someone I was barely familiar with? I keep telling myself that I didn't know him. B_ut I think I wanted to..._

* * *

Only when my dad climbs the creaky narrow stairs and knocks on my door do I wake up for a second time. He strides over to my bed and bounces onto it with a smile. He pats my back and shakes me a little to make sure I'm awake, like he has always done since I was a little girl on summer break.

"Hey, Saph, guess what day it is!" I don't want to play along and manage a grumble as I stick my head under my pillow.

"Monday?"

"Nope! Happy Birthday, Saph!" _I'd forgotten completely. I turn seventeen today. _My dad shakes me one more time, and I show him a weak smile to let him know I'm awake. His eyes crinkle up and I see him grin back through his neatly trimmed beard, the exact same color as his hair and mine. It only takes me a minute to locate my favorite pair of jeans and throw on one of my mother's embroidered peasant shirts before walking out of my room. I quickly brush my hair and tie a paisley bandana in a knot to push it behind my ears.

I barrel down the stairs and peek around the corner into my mother's kitchen. Her loose and billowing shirt matches my own, since she sews all the clothes in our house. But where mine is forest green with white embroidery down the middle and slit sleeves, hers is completely blue with puffy sleeves. A morning glory is pinned at the temple of her crimped sable hair. Her hands, still coated with damp clay from a morning session at her pottery wheel, swing open as she rushes towards me and envelopes me in a hug.

"Little Saphia Nolan, my Saphia! You're growing up so quickly…" We pull away and smile at each other, but I recognize the glaze in her eyes. If I turn to watch dad sitting at the table, I would notice the same glaze. Hieronymous once assured me that is was an effect of the memory enchantment placed on them to keep them from remembering my magical powers.

I sit down between my parents and my mom places a stack of birthday pancakes in front of me, complete with whipped cream, chocolate chips, and seventeen burning candles. The smoke makes my eyes water more, but my parents only smile and begin talking. I eat quietly while they laugh and joke with each other, careful not to draw their attention. When I finally do, their conversation becomes more stilted and detached as the blankness returns to their expressions.

"Thank you guys, for everything." My dad frowns a little and looks up from the newspaper he is skimming.

"What for?"

"Well, my pancakes for one thing."

"Of course, sunshine! It's nothing." My mom laughs and waves her hand. I try not to roll my eyes; having a mom like Taisie Nolan meant that I was totally prepared to deal with the overly optimistic, sunny Professor Potsdam.

"Happy birthday, Saphia." They say it again, and then return to each other's company. I scoop up the last of the whipped cream and leave to wash my plate. I spend my whole day with my parents, watching football with my dad and working in the garden with my mom. At night we have Hawaiian pizza, my absolute favorite, and play old maid for a few hours. I open presents, happy to see that at least they haven't forgotten how much I like to run when I pull tissue paper off my new tennis shoes. They also give me two books, a bunch of school supplies and a gift card for mp3 music.

* * *

Every day does end, and after kissing them both good night I'm left alone with my thoughts. I can't talk to my parents; even if they could understand, they wouldn't remember for long. Even on a day that has always made me so happy to be with them, I don't feel like celebrating at all and can't even tell them why. I realize that we are beginning to behave like strangers towards each other. My parents seem to understand slightly more about me than I do about Hieronymous. If only I could talk to him. Ellen might understand, too. I angrily blink away more tears, irritated for feeling so sorry for myself. I have much more to do than sit around and sulk.

I yank the bandana out of my hair and jump into the first pair of pajamas I can dig out of my dresser. Then I notice my magical yearbook, its concealment charm starting to flicker away. I grab the spine without thinking and flip through the profile pages of my classmates. I stop when I reach mine, reading the comments left on the page. My eyes land on one in particular, in his typical sophisticated cursive.

_I look forward to seeing you again._

_-Hieronymous_

I sniffle quietly and set the yearbook aside. I'll miss sitting in his class. I still have to return to Iris Academy, whether I want to or not. In the long run, I'm sure I will believe it was a good decision. Only now I have another thing on my mind as I set my alarm for tomorrow. I will be returning to school, but not as some oddity for people to whisper about. I'm no longer married to everyone's least favorite teacher, I'm his widow. My hand shakes a little when I reach to turn off the lamp. Perhaps my classmates will reject me before I even walk into the gym. I toss and turn in the dark, afraid that I might be completely alone before the year is out. _I wish I could talk to Hieronymous._

But I can't. I miss him, but I've got to suck it up and deal with this. He would ask…no, demand no less. I hope that I won't disappoint him. My eyes close.


	3. Ch 3 - Obvious Obviously Isn't Obvious

"So…how are you doing, Saphia?" Ellen folds her hands nervously and smiles politely. It sounds like a random stranger's question, and I try not to sigh out loud. I hastily zip up my empty suitcase and slide it under the bed nearest to the window in our sophomore dorm room.

"Alright, I suppose."

"Okay…well, do you need anything?" She's too polite, and jittery, judging by the waver in her voice. I turn around and smile a tiny bit.

"I'm just tired, Ellen. Really. Hey, are you going to want help unpacking?"

"No…no, that's fine. I'm sure you have things that you have to see to…" I grimace and let my hands flail around our room.

"Like what?"

"Uh, well…surely you've got things to deal with because…for…Professor Grabiner." Ellen flinches as I smack my palm to my forehead. _Thanks. Thank you so much for letting them know, Potsdam. _Before I can open my mouth and bite out something sarcastic, Virginia leaps through the door and fills the whole room with her impatient, sporty energy. Her red curls bounce in front of my eyes as she squeezes the breath out of my lungs with a tight hug. The curls bounce more as she jumps back suddenly and rolls her shoulders.

"Hiya. So, how's it going?"

"Hi Virginia. I'm good, how was your summer?"

"Pretty good. I'm gonna get to the point. Professor Potsdam told me what was up, and I'm sorry about ol' Grabby. Are you… what are your plans?" I grimace at her and Ellen makes a violent slashing motion that Virginia completely ignores.

"What are you talking about?" Virginia blushes a little and shrugs when I narrow my eyes at her. Ellen pales and makes another slashing motion.

"Nothing. Some widows choose to go into seclusion for a year. There are still some stuffed shirts out there that believe anything less is socially unacceptable-"

"Let me get this straight. Hieronymous died less than a week ago, we just arrived at school an hour ago, and the most important thing on your mind is if I feel up to wearing black and locking myself up somewhere to give you some extra closet space?" A part of me seems to be watching from a detached perspective, and they realize that I'm being grossly unfair. Virginia practically steams in her place.

"Geez, don't get your panties in a twist. Too late." I feel like I've been running in the sun with my sweats and winter coat on. _That's the lethargy setting in,_ I wearily sigh to myself. The car ride to school with my parents had been completely silent. The odd looks I received from a handful of my classmates in the hallways– I suspected then that word of Hieronymous' death had already made it around Iris – only increased the anxiety I felt; I'm down to my last nerve. Virginia begins tapping her foot, and I clench my teeth together to keep from yelling at both of them. Ellen hastily flies between us, wringing her hands in my direction.

"Calm down, both of you. Let's just start this whole conversation over. Please, Saphia?" I roll my shoulders back and stare up. Haphazardly pasted to the whitewashed ceiling directly above me is a bright green smiley face sticker, a useless scrap probably left behind by a sophomore last year. I'd made plans to put my extensive extra information on blue magic – honestly, it's the only magic style I'm proficient in, and not at all because my husband taught it – to use and create an illusion this year. I'd even doodled some fluffy clouds and dragons with bulging cartoon eyes, ideas of what to construct when I charmed the ceiling. Up until the Headmistress' visit to my home, I had expected that to be the first thing on my to-do list when I arrived in my new room. Instead…

Virginia is tapping her foot again, loud enough to get my attention. I catch myself before I can glare at her and collapse backward onto my bed. My roommates take their seats and keep their gazes fixed on me while I rub my forehead. The irritation evaporates, an indifferent kind of numbness replacing it. I shrug.

"There's not much to say. Pot-…Professor Potsdam showed up on my doorstep a day before my birthday, acting strange. All I've been told is that Professor Grabiner was involved in a pretty bad accident here at school." Ellen frowns and shifts in her spot.

"I just think that it's strange. I wasn't here the last week of summer-"

"Saph _knows _that_-_" Virginia swallows the rest of her interruption when Ellen glares at her. She starts to speak, seems to think better of her words, and changes the subject slightly. I raise my brows, curious as to what she might have said, but I force myself to focus.

"But don't you think some other full-time student would have been around? Nobody seems to know anything about an accident of that magnitude. Not just anything can kill a professor." _Not just anything could be able to kill Hieronymous. _My eyes burn a little and I squeeze them shut to keep a tear from escaping.

"That's all I've been told, and I can't find out anything else from anybody." The words fall out as I open my eyes and exhale, barely a whisper to my friends. Virginia jolts as if something just occurred to her, and hops up to rummage through the rumpled clothing wadded in the green alligator suitcase that rolled into the room at her side. Ellen quietly moves from her cot to mine and puts a hand on my arm.

"I know you were friends, and I'm sorry Saphia." Her smile is shaky, but she gets no reaction from me anyway. I hear the noise filter through my head but don't really react to it. Virginia yells out a cheery "Aha!" and with a devil-may-care grin tosses a small wrapped package into my lap. Ellen harrumphs and rolls her eyes.

"Virginia, I don't really think now is the time-"

"Of course it is! I think we all need something a little happy, especially Saph." Virginia shrugs at me when I pick up the tiny box and finally look at her.

"Happy Birthday?" The cheerfulness is forced, and it sounds like she is asking me a question. Regardless, I pull the blue ribbon off of the plaid wrapping paper and dump the contents of the small cardboard box into my hand. Virginia motions for me to eat one, and I carefully pop a bright pink one into my mouth. In a second I'm choking and spit out a small feather.

"Oh, you got a flamingo-flavored one! Those are really rare!"

Virginia is interrupted by Ellen's disgusted squeal as she scrambles as far away from the feather as possible. Ignoring Ellen, she grins at me.

"Tastes like chicken, doesn't it Saph?" I haven't laughed in a couple of days, but it feels like it's been far longer than that as a husky chuckle escapes me. I am rolling more obscenely bright jelly beans between my fingers. The rest of them have spilled onto my green robe, which gets Virginia chuckling too. Ellen recovers her wits and squeaks out a laugh as well. To my surprise the gelatinous beans shuffle and shake, and then start to bounce up and down.

"They're those _Anythings_ that I told you about. I thought it'd be cool to get you something 'witchy' for your birthday." Ellen gasps her disbelief and puts her hands to her cheeks.

"Virginia! Isn't that candy expensive?"

"It sure is, which is why Saph's present only weighs one ninth of a pound!" She flops onto my bed beside me, and I scoot over to give her sufficient room to pick a jelly bean off of my skirt and flip it into the air. It lands on her tongue effortlessly and she puckers up with a moan.

"Gross, this one was lemon juice! Ya see, the _Anythings _Company is world-famous for their stuff, jelly beans in particular. They've got really weird flavors. Nothing downright nasty, though, and they have good flavors like chocolate, too. It's like eating, uh…that thing they've got at The Glen."

"Amiuzon?" Virginia brightens and points at me just as Ellen reaches over and plucks two beans from the bed, both different shades of green, and evaluates them in her palm. She eats the lighter of the two beans, muttering her approval and some general comments about the delicious properties of roasted, salted asparagus.

"Yeah! Except every color has a different flavor, and the more you laugh the more the beans 'dance'." She curls two of her fingers on each hand to emphasize 'dance'. I chuckle again, but more briefly, and the beans only tremble in our hands. I hold a grey bean between my thumb and index finger; it pulls apart easily enough for me to study its empty middle. I pass a piece to each of my roommates and we simultaneously swallow them. Suddenly we are gagging and spitting cotton tufts onto the floor. Our laughter is loud and carefree enough to send the remaining beans flying into the air, nearly high enough for them to splatter on the ceiling. With their help, the beans are shoveled back into their plain brown container. The tension in the room melts away as I sit quietly between my two friends. That single peaceful moment is over just as quickly when a knock reverberates through the room.

* * *

"_Hello_ my daring Horses! Is Saphia in there?" Professor Potsdam's burbling voice rings in our ears, full of sincere cheer but matter-of-fact. _She already knows I'm in here._ Ellen rolls her eyes and replies, which sends us all into a muffled fit of giggles. Virginia's present, which is resting on the empty dresser next to my bed, rattles and intensifies our laughter. Potsdam calls out again, and my thoughts grow sober immediately, the amusement sucked away. However, Ellen and Virginia are relaxed and wearing genuine smiles as I slide into the hallway. The Headmistress bustles away from my dorm room, the thick rings on her right hand pressing through my sleeve and into my skin as she lightly pulls me along.

"Nothing is wrong, dear. I wanted to check in with my blossoming bloom and see how she is faring. I also have some things that require your help, I'm afraid." I follow wordlessly wherever she steers. She halts as a tall, hunched frame rounds the corner. I startle and try to move back, but Potsdam's grip is very unyielding.

I can discern more features as the figure gets closer. It is a tall, impossibly slender woman in teaching robes gliding towards us. Her skirts swish and twitch as if they were being dragged on water. Her high cheekbones look sucked in combination with the severe pinning back of her greying brown hair. Her robes continue to flow freely as she stops and looks down her nose at us.

"Good day, Headmistress." The voice is soft and low, like a rustle of leaves or, as Big Steve might have said, the snore of a baby bunny rabbit. Potsdam peers up at the apparent professor with a smile and waves cheerfully.

"Good day, Deirdre! Have you settled in yet?"

"Yes." The Headmistress waits as if expecting the woman named Deirdre to elaborate. Instead, thin, dark brows stretch up her high forehead as her blue eyes turn to me. I see a brief glitter of something undefinable in them and keep staring, puzzled.

"May I ask whom you are accompanying?" The ending of each syllable is deliberate and clipped, but there is no British accent. Deirdre's grammar is flawless, and I narrow my eyes. _No native English speaker is that deliberate. _She catches the movement and I watch her expression harden. Potsdam, seemingly oblivious, smiles gently and places a hand on my shoulder.

"Allow me to introduce Saphia Nolan-Grabiner, our late Hieronymous' wife. Saphia, this is Professor Deirdre Russom." She purses her small mouth for a moment as Potsdam speaks, but then her lips thin and compress into a fine line of open displeasure. Nevertheless, she sweeps forward and offers me her long tapered fingers. I take the pale hand offered to me after a split second of hesitation.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Madame Grabiner." Her tone is stiff and formal and implies everything but pleasure. _Great. Another teacher to hate me. I hope I don't have to make a second marriage this year. _Hieronymous of all people would have smirked at the irony in that, and a smile spreads across my face as I think of seeing the familiar smirk that I miss so much. Professor Russom appears surprised at my reaction for a moment, but then continues her glaring appraisal as her hand drops to her side.

"I am sure you are as of now aware of my purpose here, Madame Grabiner...Saphia, is it not?" I nod as I register that her pronunciation makes my name 'Saphia' sound very much like '_Z_aphia'. Professor Potsdam places a hand on my shoulder.

"Professor Russom will be instructing the students in Blue and Red magic this year, Saphia." I merely nod my head a second time. Without waiting for the Headmistress to finish speaking, Professor Russom swiftly sweeps away without another word. A chill in the air after her departure makes me shudder a little, and I turn to watch the new teacher leave. But, she has completely vanished, though the nearest corner or door is at least ten feet away. Potsdam tugs on my arm again, unbothered by the encounter.

"You'll have to excuse Deirdre, sun star. She's a little self-contained. Not very outgoing." _She's replacing my husband _I feel the headmistress turn her head towards me as I exhale heavily. My thoughts begin to turn melancholy and sour. _I hope I don't have to do anything like identify a body._ Before I realize that I've taken another breath - never mind that I've trudged halfway across the academy - I am standing in the Headmistress' private office.

With a flick of her wrist, two chairs scrape across the floor and position themselves beside a large wide window. Ordinarily sunlight would be streaming into the room, but outside it is drab and overcast. A key is abruptly pressed into my hands, old and ornate. The metal is cold enough to sting.

"I took the liberty of locking up Hieronymous' rooms until you could get settled into Iris Academy, my little elfling. I thought that you would want to have this before we begin."

"Begin what?" I color a little bit as she smiles and flits to the chair, irritated for suddenly sounding so stupid and childish. I take the seat opposite her and she begins her customary animated gestures as she talks.

"I don't have the heart to terminate and completely restructure the wards on Hieronymous' chambers quite yet, but as his wife you should have no trouble passing through them. You will have to enter them sometime soon and begin sorting through his things. And yes, dear, you have the right to keep some of his possessions if you choose."

"Did this key belong to him?" The words flow without any conscious thought or effort on my part. Potsdam considers me for a moment before offering a reply.

"I am not entirely sure. I happened upon it in the hallway near his rooms yesterday morning. However, it worked well enough when I tried it one the lock. I could not freely enter though. The rascal thought to ban me from snooping around among his private belongings!"

"There's nothing in there that he would want to hide from you." I leap to Hieronymous' defense immediately. _He has done the same for his students._ Potsdam merely smiles and dismisses my outburst with the same elegance of shooing a butterfly away.

"Of course, sapling! I am the last person he would attempt to hide from. After all, saying I _won't _tamper with his wards is very much different from saying I _can't_." _Okay, then. _I blink at her once, trying to assemble a coherent thought, when she moves forward. I start, thinking that she meant to get up and leave me alone for a moment.

"Perhaps you would like a moment-"

"Wait. Professor, I want to know what really happened. Please."

"It was a dreadful mishap here at school, my dear. I don't really want to upset you."

"Professor, please. What upsets me the most is that I don't know anything. I can't…sort through this. What do I do? Will there be a service of any kind?" _Have I missed my own husband's funeral? _That unadded question makes me shiver with guilt, though I couldn't guess the reason for my guilt to save my life. Potsdam reaches over and pats the hand that still clutches the key to Hieronymous' rooms.

"You don't have to worry about any of that."

"Do wizards have any type of service?"

"Well, in this instance that would be quite impossible."

"Why? How did Hieronymous…pass away?"

"I don't know."

"Haven't you…sent him to the coroner?" She smiles at me like I'm a little scamp that she's particularly fond of and ruffles my hair.

"Oh no, that's not how it is done for witches and wizards, sapling. _Coroners, _what an unpleasant thought!" She actually shivers and settles back farther into the cushy upholstery of her pink chair. I slowly inhale through my nose and count to ten, determined to keep my patience.

"Can you tell me anything else?"

"I wish I could, Saphia, but that's quite impossible for me. You see, we have no way of knowing any of this."

"But…"

"To put it simply, we don't have any evidence to examine."

"But the body, surely…?" Now she looks a little perturbed and gazes out the window for a moment.

"Saphia, the body could not be found." I hear the words, simple enough for my brain to absorb as I tap my fingers on the arm of the chair for a second. Then my knees jerk and I leap to my shaking feet in shock. I pace back and forth in front of her, unable to force myself to stop moving.

"Hieronymous' body is missing?" My voice is so hushed it sounds hoarse. The Headmistress looks me square in the eye, the ideal picture of serenity, and nods.


End file.
